


stretching my roots deep (into your heart, into your soul)

by Fireflies12



Series: the hill i'll die on is about 90 meters of bricks (colored indigo and inscribed with my name) [3]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Gen, Neopronouns, Other, Worldbuilding, because i refuse to refer to them as 'hot girl' and 'hotter girl', but the in-universe explanation is tree gender is just nothing like traditional human gender, hot girl uses she/her and they/them, hotter girl uses neopronouns, hotter girl uses zei/zeim, i gave hot girl and hotter girl names, listen if i'm populating their tags then goddamnit i get to make them use whatever pronouns i want, on accident
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2020-12-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:47:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28140390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fireflies12/pseuds/Fireflies12
Summary: Alharu did not grow under the stars.AKA:Author writes third work in this series, this time about Hot Girl, and whoops i accidentally did a worldbuilding??
Relationships: Clara (Dream SMP) & Hot Girl (Dream SMP) & Hotter Girl (Dream SMP), Clara (Dream SMP)/Hot Girl (Dream SMP)/Hotter Girl (Dream SMP), can also be read very easily as
Series: the hill i'll die on is about 90 meters of bricks (colored indigo and inscribed with my name) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2058759
Comments: 10
Kudos: 29





	stretching my roots deep (into your heart, into your soul)

Alharu did not grow under the stars.

She sprouted in the close, protective reaches of the one who first grew her roots, and it had been at least a dozen summers before her roots were developed enough that she could go anywhere but the dark forest she’d grown in.

Even then, she had to be back to her progenitor before the sun set, catching only glimpses of the horizon turning red.

It wasn’t until she was almost two dozen summers old that she was finally allowed to go off on her own indefinitely, now that her bark had hardened and the hide of her face was tough enough not to wither in the cold.

She ventured for a long, long time, passing by so many other places she lost count. But she was always under the canopy of generations past, leaves that were so tightly woven that little short of fire could damage them.

The first time they saw the stars was when they finally found where they would settle. A clearing, near the edges of a forest, that bled into a strange, deep lake. The soil was soft and sandy, and dry, reedy grass sprouted up.

They sank their roots into the dirt when sunset came, watching with their dark eyes and listening to the ground. The sky was stained a deep orange, almost the same color as their gourd, and the shadows were long and creeping. There were caves nearby, creeping with life and death in equal measures.

The sky turned dark, almost like a deep, ever-stretching lake, and tiny pinpricks of light were suspended in it, faint and pale. Their eyes weren’t made to see the stars, but they felt the difference in the light.

Sunlight was warm and all-encompassing, stretching out over their bark and sinking into their veins. It brightened their gourd to a brilliant, vibrant orange, made sap flow under their skin, softened the soil and let them dig their roots in.

But starlight was entirely different- soft and cool, almost seeming to whisper to them. If they listened closely, they could almost hear voices, familiar and not, a soft song that never left, always rising and falling quietly in the background of life, constant and yet unnoticed.

The clearing she had picked out wasn’t empty for long. A child- surely not two dozen summers old yet, with soft bark and no gourd. They had no broad, reaching leaves or dark eyes- they looked more like one of the willows that used to cover the world, with their pale eyes and paler hanging leaves.

The child seemed strangely insistent on burrowing into the earth- it brought her great worry, hearing the echoes of the deep and knowing a sapling was trying to get there. She couldn’t do anything, apart from try and steer him away from the more dangerous parts.

Caves that were guarded by flowered trees and quick, darting lizards just so happened to have nothing of value, the only entrances to them being flooded with enough water that it wasn’t worth bothering with.

The pockets of Skulk seemed to keep having issues- things taking root and disturbing the stone above them, cracks that formed and allowed piles of sand and gravel to rush through and smother the pacing of angry mobs.

She had  _ absolutely _ nothing to do with it.

Definitely nothing at all.

Clara first appeared a day or so after they had made the semi-unconscious decision of keeping the child from killing themself via foolishness.

She seemed to have grown attached to the child as well, a faint shimmering outline that watched with bright eyes and kept the torches alight for just a bit longer than normal, humming songs that seemed familiar and new all at once.

The first time she noticed them, she stopped dead in her tracks, confused, and stared. They ignored her, instead focusing on nudging the child away from a cave filled with hissing cave spiders.

Well. Nudging away from, releasing a spring of water to push away from, the two were practically the same.

Their leaves bathed in the sunlight, wide and dark, and a familiar, soft melody seemed to rise in volume.

They ignored the sound, instead focusing on stopping the child from lighting themself on fire.

She came to appreciate Clara- they both held an affinity for not wanting the child to die, and as small as it was, that one thing led to much bonding. Neither of them spoke to anyone else, as far as she knew, and they didn’t really speak to each other, either.

They would exchange words, yes, but they mainly spoke through shared glances, shifted stances and an understanding without words of what the other meant. It was through this method that they communicated, with no spoken words needed.

She mostly spoke to feel the language on her tongue, a reminder of the family she had left behind, and to hear the sound in the air, not dissimilar to the sound of hissing wind in creaking branches.

Clara’s language sounded strange and ancient, almost reminiscent of the tall creatures that stayed deep underground and feared water, but different enough to be separate.

They told each other stories- Clara spoke of endless, stretching skies, great pillars and dark shapes against starry skies, and Alharu told her of the echoes of the earth, great chasms so dark they might as well be night, laced with jewels that glimmered like stars and plants that clung to the stone.

Thaniaan appeared only a few days after Clara, tall and heavy-set with dark eyes much like their own, a summer older than them. Zei hadn’t meant to grow attached, they knew- they often caught zeim debating with zeimself on leaving, but zei always decided against it, something they appreciated.

None of the three of them planned to get attached to the child, and yet they had all essentially accepted the role of making sure they didn’t die.

Thaniaan wasn’t as fond of the subtleness of Alharu’s tactics as zei were of actively convincing animals to keep the child company. Zei had a habit of taking advantage of all Dugtoerre’s ability to foster life to spring entire reefs to live to bring forth fish and dolphins, create wide swaths of flowers to welcome bees, spread mushrooms on the grass to keep Mushroom Henry around.

If the child noticed anything strange, they didn’t voice their concern- not that they were aware of the level of investment they had incited from the three of them, seeming to be only marginally aware of their existence.

Thaniaan had different stories, of climbing vines and flying birds and wild cats, of dense grass and shallow streams. 

Zeir stories reminded her of stories from her own youth, of falling snow and hunting packs of dogs and frozen ground, and Clara told new stories of stone cliffs that reached into the sky and rivers that ran deep and strong.

These slowly expanded upon each other, until they started making up their own stories- worlds where it always snowed, where the ground was suspended in layers above an eternal drop, where the ocean was deep and warm and the current ran strong.

The stories sounded like starlight, ringing in her heart and echoing in her head.

**Author's Note:**

> u wanna write about clara and hot girl and hotter girl so bad. i know u do. i bet you wont, you gotta prove me wrong
> 
> also Thaniaans pronouns compared to traditional ones to clarify what gets used in what circumstances:
> 
> She/He/They/Zei  
> Her/Him/Them/Zeim  
> Herself/Himself/Themself/Zeimself  
> Hers/His/Theirs/Zeirs


End file.
